


Rise of Monsterkind

by Flurrious



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Action, Adult Turtles (TMNT), Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flurrious/pseuds/Flurrious
Summary: Mutants begin popping up once again in New York City, years after the initial 'mutant outbreak'. Baron Draxum SWEARS he's not responsible for this one.Meanwhile, you're just having a normal night. Window propped open, cool air and city noises drifting in... and then you have a nightmare. And when you awaken... you're no longer you. You're some kind of.. cat.. mutant?Cover Art Illustrated by Yours, Truly
Relationships: Donatello/April O'Neil (TMNT), Leonardo (TMNT)/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	1. The Mutation

**Author's Note:**

> Going to (tentatively) include my NSFW Twitter Account-- nothing's really there but if you wanna hang, that's where I'm at!  
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/FlurriousSol  
> Cover: https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EiycjT5XcAA0Ubs?format=png&name=900x900

Ah, New York City: what a town. You've lived here for.. well, a few years now. Promises of bigger, brighter things led you to strike out on your own. Not all your dreams or ambitions have worked out yet, but that doesn't mean they never will. You just have to keep working at it, you know? And besides, it's not so bad here. It's the same busy city every day, but it's different every day, and watching the seasons pass here has been a stabilizing reminder that things are changing, and time is pushing you forward.

It's autumn. You're optimistic. You've got a cozy job as a waitress in a finer establishment, it helps pay the OUTLANDISH bills you're faced with in NYC. It's hectic work, and you've met your fair share of shit customers, but you meet pleasant ones, too. Your coworkers seem disinterested in you, but they aren't unfriendly, and that's all you can ask for. Being left alone is never a bad thing, really.

It does sometimes sting that you don't really have many friends here. You're well-acquainted, you've been to some get-togethers, but nothing really solidifying. You've always got your internet buddies, when you're feeling lonely, though, and that's enough.

On the way home from work, you're scrolling through the feeds to find one of your friends' posts: a video of some crazy.. monster, wreaking havoc on some cars-- the caption reading, "Mutant Chihuahua Runs RAMPANT in Front of NYC Family-Owned Pet Store," with today's date punctuating it.

This isn't the first time you've witnessed something impossibly crazy in New York, but it is the first time it's happened in.. you wanna say a year, or two. With mutants, specifically. You note that this event happened fairly close to your home-- you may have even been inside that pet store, when you first moved here, when it was under a different name.

Luckily, it seems like no one got hurt in the video, but that the Mutant Chihuahua is still on the loose somewhere. It's just.. it's crazy. The whole mutant thing. If it weren't well-documented by social media, you'd insist that the whole thing was a hoax.

You sigh. It's as real as you are.

As you come up to your apartment complex, you hear police sirens in the distance-- probably dealing with all the property damage from that pet store. Not that they're doing much about it. You shake your head and head in, pressing a button on the elevator. Going up.

And.. a few steps out, on the right side of the hall, is your apartment. You step inside to find it pristine, just like you left it. The smell of cleaning solutions still fills the air, evidence of the deep clean you accomplished last night. You follow your nightly ritual, eating, grooming yourself, and settling down to enjoy some cartoons in bed. The apartment is damn small, but it's cushy. The entrance leads straight to the kitchen, and off to the side is the bathroom; across, a balcony. It's got a pretty nice view, since you're just above a dozen floors up. Near the roof of this complex.

Beside the balcony's sliding door is a stairway to a small loft space that you call your bedroom (although it's all the same room with the kitchen, technically). With your lights off, the TV illuminates your room with a lazy blue, and you smile. This is nice. You prop your loft window open to let the nice autumn breeze in, snuggle into your fuzzy blanket that your grammy gave you, and slowly, you drift off into a blissful sleep.

And then.. there's darkness. And a sharp, SHARP pain. You hope this horrible feeling passes. Everything just burns and it feels like your bones are shifting, your muscles tensing and stretching in agonizing ways, but as quickly as it started, the feeling passes, and once again, you drift back off into that lazy, fuzzy sleep.

You awaken to some jerk blaring his horn in the streets below. It's still dark out, but a hint of sunlight streams through your open window. Frustrated, you slink out of bed and head to the bathroom. Normally it's too dark to see but you know how to navigate in your home without light. Doesn't seem to be a problem right now, you know?

You don't even bother flipping the light in the bathroom as you do your business. You're still sleepy, why wake yourself up more than you need to with lights? Helps that it's pretty warm and soft in this apartment right now, it's keeping you sleepy.

...

Soft..?

You take moment to think about it. That isn't right. Why is it soft right now? What does that even mean..? You wash your hands, still encapsulated in darkness. You look in the mirror.

It dawns on you. Right then, right there. You're not you. Light-yellow eyes glow up at you, seeing clearly in what should be all-encompassing night. Fur; large, pointed ears; whiskers, paws, fangs, markings, fur, fur, fur, FUR, you're a CAT you're a CAT---

You feel sick. You can't believe what you're seeing, it's not possible, and yet-- you're here, completely un-you. Non-yourself. None of your normal features are on display in the mirror, and you realize with horror. This is what it is to be a monster. You're a mutant. You're a mutant and you're struck. There's no going back.. is there. No going back to being a human.

You flip on the light, and you hiss. Not a normal, human hiss. A low, cat-like hiss. You're gonna throw up. You're gonna throw up. You thank whatever gods are out there that you're still by your toilet when you scream bile into it. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This can't be happening it just... it can't be.

This can't be happening.

It really, really cannot be happening.


	2. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You examine what's different-- and contemplate what this means in your life.

You’re not exactly sure how long you’ve stayed in the shower, but the water’s starting to turn cold. The wetness on your silvery fur isn’t pleasant, and grabbing a towel, your suspicions are confirmed: it’s gonna take some dedication to actually get dry. Damn fur.

You take stock of yourself in the mirror on the bathroom door, fully naked. You’re some kind of long-hair cat. Your legs are  _ strong _ and rippling with muscle. Your feet are extremely different, sporting four very furry toes on each foot. You note that you can spread your toes a LOT, like more than you’re familiar a cat can. And your feet have just.. become so huge. It’s not comfortable to walk on your heels, only with the pads of your feet. You suppose skinny jeans are out the window, at this point.

The whole claw thing is new, too. On both your front and back claws.. Or, hand claws and feet claws? Luckily, your hands aren’t too changed. They’re certainly  _ larger _ , but your fingers are still fairly proportionate to human hands. Your hands’ paws are not as padded as on your feet, so grabbing things doesn’t seem like it’ll be an issue, for the most part.

Next, though, is your tail. Your  _ tail _ , that you  _ have now. _ It mostly seems to act on autopilot, but you can move it any way you please, when you concentrate on it. It’s kinda short, honestly.

Eventually, your eyes trail up and you examine your anatomy. You still have human curvature underneath all that fur, still have human-sized breasts ( _ your _ breasts) where the fur thins on your chest and stomach. Underneath your breasts though, you notice something poking through the fur. You rub the area and gasp as you realize-- you’ve got two smaller, barely noticeable breasts underneath your human ones. You examine the rest of your stomach, searching for more but that’s it. Four nipples. You’re not entirely sure what kind of cat has four.. uh,  _ teats _ , or if this is just part of the randomness of the whole.. mutating, thing? But it’s bizarre.

Your gaze goes down even further. Your womanhood is hidden behind a tasteful tuft of fur, kindly obscuring whatever the hell has changed down there. You grab a hand mirror and do your best to just.. examine the area. Spreading your legs, parting the fur, you discover it’s, thankfully, not all that different. The coloration is fairly pale, and you wouldn’t say the color on your vulva is the same as it was  _ before  _ the mutation, but it kinda seems like it’s still there, just muted, somewhat.

The thought of investigating inside makes you feel a little hot, and your fur stands on end-- no, probably shouldn’t go sticking your mutant hands in there right now. The heartbreak you’d feel if it  _ felt _ different in there would probably be more than you could handle right now. You just know it seems the same, on the surface, thankfully.

And, lastly, your head. Seems kind of silly that your natural human hair still sits atop your head. Even though it’s turned silver, it’s.. otherwise, unchanged. Your facial structure is blatantly different, but you can still recognize yourself in it. Your eyes are larger, the color a soft, golden yellow. Your pupils, right now, are sort of full.

These are the eyes of a cat, brimming with curiosity. Earlier, when you’d looked in the mirror, your pupils thinned to slits, then dilated to that fearful, terrified cat-look.

And next, your whiskers-- you never imagined how sensitive having whiskers was. When you brush against something, even lightly, your whiskers send these sensations through to your head-- it’s like the same feeling as when you’re wandering in the dark, and your hand brushes against something, barely. You  _ feel _ that thing.

Your nose is just a cat nose, and your mouth doesn’t really have that human-lip thing going on anymore. Your lips are thin and black, and your whole mouth is lined with sharp teeth. Two large fangs peer out when your mouth is closed.  _ Look at that absolutely, kissable mouth _ , you muse.

You shake your head-- beating yourself up isn’t going to help here. You’ve spent plenty of time focusing on what’s changed, but almost no time on what to do now.

Turning on your phone, you peep the time, your schedule, and start considering everything. You’ve got work at four, but there’s no way you’re going to be able to work that shift. Or any shifts, for that matter.

You’ll need to call in and tell them.. there’s been some emergency? And that you won’t be able to return, because of it? You don’t want to have to lie but the truth definitely isn’t on the table. There’s no way you’re going to be able to tell anyone about this whole situation.

Although…

A smile makes its way to your lips, and you wince, seeing your teeth on full display from just a little grin.

You’ve just gotten an idea.

Leaving the bathroom, you make your way to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat. You’re not 100% sure you’re allowed to eat cereal like this but dammit, you’re gonna eat that shit.

You scroll through a couple of group chats on your phone and decide to pose a question to your random internet buds (with whom you’ve done such things as share pictures of cute animals, and, nerded out over cartoons, etc.):

**Hey guys, I got a random question-- I was talking about this the other day with some peeps and wanted to see what you guys think. What would you do if you turned into one of those NYC Mutants?**

Ripping off the bandaid, and hitting send before you could have second thoughts about this-- you let out the breath you’d been holding in.

Over the course of an hour, several friends put their two cents in on what they’d do: there are some thoughtful responses amongst the  _ mostly _ silly answers to the query, and it’s given you something to think about.

**TxTrra- I’d find any excuse to start actually focusing on art, if I mutated, I’d literally** **_have_ ** **to quit my job and work from home. If I’m lucky, I could pass myself off as a person in a furry costume, and attend cons, or something.**

**Wednos- Dude, y’all know I would** **_absolutely_ ** **be a lizardman. Like,** **_Mark Zuckerburg-level lizardman_ ** **. I’m already** **_basically_ ** **a gremlin and live the life of a hermit, no one literally ever needs to see me. I’d let my bestie in on my “mutation secret” business, and pay them to do all my grocery shopping and stuff, and we’d fukkin, stop crime and shit. And I work IT so like, I’m already set up for this life--**

**Feral Bat Man-** **I’d just open up a business called Bat Man Cafe’ and realllllly play up the whole ‘Bat Man’ thing and everybody would be like, “Are you actually a bat man” and I would say “Yes” much to the dismay of literally everyone.**

Your buds don’t know how good their responses are-- both the serious and the silly ones-- but you’re grateful for these dorks. This is a starting point.

Working from home is almost certainly going to be a big part of your immediate future. There’s like… work-at-home call centers, right? You could probably find something online, with enough digging. And there’s always sites like Patreon, where artists can make a little extra income. Should probably look into that, too.

Going out is still going to be an issue, though. You wonder if there’s anything in your closet that’ll  _ really _ conceal you enough. You head up the loft stairs and rummage around in your closet, pulling out long coats, boots, scarves, beanies, snow hats-- and now it’s just a matter of testing things until you’re indistinguishable from human.

You’re glad that these coats went  _ in _ and  _ out  _ of fashion, like they did-- they went on sale once summer came in full-swing, so you own a few now. They go down to your heels, so all you have to cover are your freakishly-large cat feet. None of your shoes are going to fit anymore, which really puts a damper on the whole.. disguise thing. You… DO have leggings that should help conceal most of your legs and feet-- it’ll look weird, but it’s better than nothing.

And.. your face. You lower your ears, pulling them to the sides of your face-- these could pass as bangs-- and pulling a beanie over your head, and throwing on a pair of snazzy sunglasses-- oh yeah. You’re serving some looks. Weird-ass looks, but some  _ looks _ nonetheless. Long, concealing, black coat; black leggings; sunglasses; beige beanie; nice winter gloves, a plaid blue-and-black scarf-- it’s passable.

It’ll probably be good enough in daylight, but you figure going out at night will give you the best chances of not getting caught, in general.

After some deliberation, and more-than-enough procrastination, you figured it’s better to call in to work now, than make the front-end manager have to scramble to find a replacement on time. You hated having to let Heidi down like that, since she’s been a  _ very _ understanding boss since day one, but there was nothing you could do.

Sighing, you scroll through your contacts until you reach the store’s number and hit call. It takes a moment, as you’re sure she’s  _ pretty _ busy at the moment, but she answers in her signature ‘script’ way:

** “Thanks for calling  _ Le Restaurant Trés Chic _ , how can I be of service?”

“Hey Heidi, it’s me. I’m calling to let you know that.. I, uh, there’s, that there’s been an emergency and I-- I won’t be able to come in today.”

You could practically hear Heidi’s cogs turning in her head, trying to come up with solutions already--

** “Have you tried calling the other waitresses to trade shifts yet?”

“No, I haven’t… I, uh, won’t be able to come in at all. For any of my shifts. I feel-- I feel really bad about this but I have to quit, there’s no way around it.” Heidi is completely silent on the other end of the line for awhile-- you suspect she had to pull herself away from the phone to take care of a customer or something-- just as you think the line has gone dead or something, Heidi’s voice picks up.

** “Ok, sorry, I had to pull one of the waitresses up to host for a minute so I could talk to you in private. What’s going on, hun?” You feel dread creeping up, charging your fur with tension. The heat drains from your face.

You scramble, trying to think of the right thing to say, without saying too much: “I.. I mean, well, something terrible happened and.. uh, it’s, going to.. I won’t be able to really.. get out, much, anymore, because of it. I won’t be able to perform my job the way I, uh, used to, I guess. It’s.. it’s a physical thing that isn’t going to change, anytime soon,” you breathe. You shudder, feeling extremely guilty about having to abandon her on a busy Friday evening. Trying not to cry, you choke out, “I-I’m really sorry, if I could come in I would but I just…”

** “No, I understand. Honey, I don’t know what’s going on in your life, and frankly, it isn’t any of my business, but, I just want you to know it’s okay. Life happens, my mother was in the same position a decade ago, when her test results for cancer came in-- she’s good now, but she had to drop everything to get treatment, back then. I know how you feel.”

God… you don’t even know how to respond. But you feel your eyes glossing over with tears, and they spill into the fur of your cheeks. You try to quickly mute yourself as you choke back a sob, but you’re pretty sure you were just a little too late. Heidi stays quiet on the other side of the line, letting you get a hold of yourself until you can speak again. “Heidi, I don’t.. I.. thank you so much… I’ve had just a soul-crushing day, you don’t know how much it means to hear you say it’s gonna be okay.”

** “Well, hun, you’re welcome. If whatever is going on changes, and you’re able to come back, you’re free to come on back in and we can get you to work. And,” she adds, “if you ever need to talk to someone about whatever’s going on, you still have my personal number. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, though you feel kinda silly for nodding when the other party can’t see you. “Again, thank you so much-- I should probably let you go, I know it’s gotta be busy right now.”

** “That it is-- thank you for letting me know what’s up. Don’t worry about dropping off your uniforms, you just take care of the more important things and your _ self _ first, alright?”

“Will do. Talk to you later, Heidi.”

** “Buh-bye! Take care!” -- _ beep! _

And just like that, that important call is over.

You slump, relieved that it went over well-- and grateful she was the most supporting, caring person on Planet Earth. Wiping away the tears, you mutter, just to yourself: “It’s gonna be okay.” You break out into a toothy smile.

You took care of that important thing, but more important things are on your mind. Next up: “Where do I go, exactly, for groceries? Is there some kind of.. Door Dash? But for groceries? Out there? Maybe I could pay someone in the apartment to do that for me? Aghh.. I mean I can’t just  _ walk into a grocery store disguised head-to-toe, they’re gonna think that’s sus. _ ” You look down at the kitchen from your loft, and feel that familiar feeling in your stomach.

“Already? I literally  _ just _ ate, like, two hours ago, why do I feel like I’m  _ starving _ ?!”

You look in the fridge but aren’t really feeling like cooking anything up; look in your cabinets, and then you see it-- when your mom visits, she always brings her cat with her. You have a bag of cat food here, half-full, just waiting for someone to eat its contents.

Your stomach growls so ferociously, and, wide-eyed, you slam the cabinet shut, shooting back up to a standing position. “Okay heeeeeeeelll no, I am  _ not _ resorting to eating cat food, I’ll eat  _ balogna _ before I  _ even think about that again, why the fuck was I just thinking about eating cat food what the fuck is wrong with me today--” _

  
  


So much of the day passes while you go on an online job-hunt-- you’ve applied for a few stay-at-home company representative-type-jobs, considered spreading around the fact that you’ve set up a Patreon (although you haven’t launched it yet because a: there’s an approval period and; b:  _ oof _ you’re still trying to figure things out). Rounded out the evening by drawing up a budget for the next few months.

You’ve got enough saved up to pay next month’s rent and utilities, plus plenty for groceries and enough to spend on some essentials-- online, of course-- and you’re not feeling so bad about this whole thing. You can’t change this situation, so you’re going to make the most of it.

Things are coming together-- at least somewhat, for now-- but one thing is clear-- you’re going to need to let someone in on this secret. You know you can find workarounds for most of the issues that being a mutant is going to cause, but certain things are going to slip through the cracks. You need someone to be a human when you can’t be.

The sound of your ringtone breaks your concentration, and you look down at your phone to see Heidi is calling you-- it’s 9PM, she probably just got off work.

You answer, “Hello?”

** “Hey, it’s Heidi, sorry to call you so late.”

“That’s okay, I’m still awake. What’s up?”

** “Well, I have a few things I wanted to talk about. One of the other waitresses was asking to get an extra uniform and you two share the same size. I…” she pauses, clearly tensing up on the other side of the line. “I was wondering if I could drop by and pick them up?”

“I mean, if you’re offering, sure, but they need to be put through a wash first.”

** “I’m doing my laundry tonight anyway, I can take them as-is, if you want.”

“Alright! I’ll leave them outside my apartment-- I’ll text you my address after the call.”

** “Sounds good! Um… I don’t really know how to ask this in a professional, roundabout way, but.. are you doing okay? Do you need anything, since I’m coming by anyway?” she asks, sounding really hesitant.

You stare at your phone, kind of.. baffled for a second. This is exactly what you need. Heidi is  _ exactly _ the kind of person that you can entrust a secret to.

“Heidi.”

** “Yes?”

You take a deep breath. “Can I tell you something.. kind of crazy? And, personal? And-- ask that you keep it a secret from literally everybody?”

She takes a moment.

** “As long as it isn’t that you murdered someone, absolutely, 100%, yes. Shoot.”

“I don’t want you to be surprised when you see me. You know those mutants that pop up sometimes?”

She takes another moment.

** “...yes?”

You take another breath. “I think I became one last night.”

** “...oh. For real?”

“Yeah. Legit, 100%, for real.”

** “...okay. Tell me what you need, and I’ll be right over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Spent a few days feeling out this chapter, I just really wanted to get it together instead of pushing it out as multiple chapters-- I wanna get on to the good stuff soon, but, knowing me, it's gonna be that slow-burn life for a bit.  
> Next chapter, we're pivoting-- I'm anxious as all hell to start this thing.


	3. Lynx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Turtles are looking for Mutants, trying to prevent them from running rampant in New York-- meanwhile, you're outside at night, looking to familiarize yourself with your new capabilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was worried at first that peeps weren't digging my story at first.  
> Then I realized I should probably include the turtles in this fic at *some* point.  
> :D

“Ow-- _owch!_ I would-- _prefer_ \-- ack-- a heads-up on the possibility of _broken glass_ next time we investigate in the dead of night--” Raph hisses. “Seriously, why haven’t they cleaned up the _shattered glass_ yet??!”

Draxum trudges ahead, breaking pieces of glass with each step of his hooves. “The human law-keepers must still be in the process of investigating this mutant incident,” he surmises. “Otherwise, _I’m sure_ they would’ve already taken care of this blatant hazard.”

Leo, taking note of their conversation, leaps to a countertop, avoiding the shards of glass below, and lands gracefully in a balanced crouch. “Alright guys, you know what we’re looking for. Keep talking to a minimum, we don’t want to alert the police if they come back.”

Without another word, they nod at each other, and begin searching through the wreckage. Draxum uses his mystic vines to delicately lift heavy pieces of rubble, shelves, and cages, swiping vines underneath to be as thorough as possible. Leo takes his time looking through a couple binders, wherein the residents, rescues, and adoptable pups of the pet store-slash-shelter are described; and, more importantly, identified by species and names. Raph musses through the back room, wary of the dozens of empty cages. He comes across one that is busted open-- the metal splitting outward, as if whatever was inside became too large for the metal containing it. Shining his phone’s light on it, he notices something green in the corner of the cage-- something that unsettles Raph immensely.

An Oozesquitto-- lifeless, dead, right there in the broken cage. “Must’ve gotten squished right after it injected its ooze in that chihuahua,” he mutters. He considers picking it up and putting it in a baggie or something, but before he can, Draxum’s hand snatches it.

“Curious. It seems we didn’t exterminate all the Oozesquittos, like we thought,” Draxum says, examining the dead insectoid intently. He retrieves a discarded water bottle from the wreckage with a vine and deposits the bug carefully.

Raph sputters, “Uhh, what do you think _you’re_ doing with that Oozesquitto, Draxum? You know this makes you look _INCREDIBLY_ suspicious, right? Every last one of the Oozesquittos were supposed to be dead, _years ago_.”

“I _told_ you I’m not responsible for the mutations-- _this time_ \-- whoever is responsible must have gotten their hands on one of my Oozesquittos _before_ we exterminated them all!” an exasperated Draxum bellows.

“And _I_ told _you_ to keep it _down_!” Leo exclaims, quietly. “Both of you.” At the chastising of his brother, Raph continues their heated exchange-- hushedly.

“I just don’t get why they’d, _suddenly_ , just, _pop up_ again, with no warning,” Raph huffs. “You tried to make a mutant army with those Oozesquittos, and if you’re not responsible, then I have _no idea_ who could be behind it this time.”

Draxum exhales sharply, then composes himself; “I _assure_ you, Raphael, that I haven’t the foggiest idea who’s been mutating the humans of this _wretched city_ . Oh,” he whispers, snidely, “except-- _I don’t know_ \-- maybe someone who calls herself _Big Mama_ and runs a _deadly Battle Nexus that relies on new combatants with never-before-seen powers_ . _You know_ \-- someone who _has before, declared, that she wants to use mutants for her_ **_Battle Nexus_ **\--”

“--Hey,” Leo says, cutting off Draxum. “I found something. In your opinion, does this look like something a mutant chihuahua would wear?” He holds up a dog collar that has been snapped in half.

“..Pipsqueak,” Raphael reads.

Draxum scoffs. “What a pathetic name.”

“Well, what do you think, Barry?” Leo asks, swinging the collar from one of its ends. “Is this going to provide a good enough DNA sample for Donnie’s patented ‘Mutant Tracker’?”

Draxum considers for a moment. “It should, provided that the mutt was wearing its collar, during, or after, its mutation. Which, all things considered-- seems likely.”

“Alright then! Step One of the mission, complete. Now we just gotta get this thing to Donnie and we can track down Pipsqueak. Back to the lair, boys! And--” he points at the floor, emphasising each word with a gesture, “beware of broken glass, Raaaph~”

____________________________________________________________________________

It’s been a week since the mutation changed the entirety of your being. And this… this is your first trek outside since the incident. You’re wearing concealing clothing, head-to-toe-- while walking beside Heidi.

She gives a supportive thumbs up.

You open the building’s door, stepping into the brisk air. The pavement is cold on your paws. You and Heidi both agreed that your furry feet can pass as slippers, as long as you don’t wiggle your toes.

Speaking of, in your week of indoor-seclusion, you did some research and you’re pretty sure you’re a lynx of some kind-- they’re pretty well-known for their comically-large, toe-spreading feet. It’s an adaptation to help them walk without breaking ice, apparently.

Being out in the open, cold air is nice. It’s dark, there’s pretty much no one around-- and the people who _are_ around truly don’t give two shits about you and your wearing-sunglasses-at-night business. The two of you head off in the direction of the nearest park, which you’re hoping is abandoned at this time of night. You’ve been curious about how much you’re capable of, now that you’ve got some feline features. You just need a place to test your limits, somewhere people won’t be watching you.

As the park comes into view, Heidi breaks the comfortable silence between you two-- spinning a lanyard to kick her thoughts into gear: “You know, this whole thing is crazy. It’s thrilling, and, you know what, I’m just gonna say it-- _scientifically fascinating_ \-- what this mutation stuff is capable of!”

You nod, humming as your only response. You’d have never guessed that she was _deeply_ into science, especially where it concerned spaces like biology and nature-- apparently, it’s a love she and her older sister share. Her sister went to college and ended up with a grant to research the Everglades by the end of it.

You’d asked why Heidi didn’t pursue something similar, but she just shook her head saying it was ‘more of a casual interest than something she wants to put her life into’. Which, you get.

“So, what’re you planning on doing first?” Heidi inquires. “We talkin’ jumps, _night vision_ , hearing, claw strength--”

“I mean.. I guess jumping? Here, let’s go by these trees--”

Just as you get to the edge of the forrestation, a _LOUD_ , like, _RIDICULOUSLY_ ** _LOUD_** _, REVERBERATING_ _BARK_ pierces your eardrums, and you and Heidi crumple to the ground, covering your ears.

Pushing yourself up quickly, you try to find the source of the noise. Your eyes dart wildly, and you catch a glimpse of something. In the shadow of the trees, a doggish figure nears, its large eyes nearly bulging out of its head. It growls deeply. You look pointedly at the dog, not daring to make any sudden movements.

It sniffs the air. It takes a step towards you. Then another. Slowly, it makes its approach, until it’s just on the edge of the trees, nearly ten feet away from you. What the ever-loving _fffuck_ do you do in this situation--- _do I just run? Can we outrun this dog if we bolt? Can I take this thing?? I can’t take this thing--!_

The sound of your own voice, growling, pulls you out of your doom-reel of thoughts. Some instinct has told you that you need to ward-off this threat, scare it away. The hood of your coat falls away as your ears pull back, but you don’t move to pull the hood up. You don’t move at all.

A passing thought in your mind tells you that this is the chihuahua mutant from the news the other day, the one that destroyed cars and caused a scene-- but didn’t hurt anyone.

Is this dog, mutant, thing, just… scared?

You stop growling, and you take a breath.

“Hey, buddy,” you breathe softly. The mutant’s ears twitch, but it doesn’t otherwise move. It sniffs the air again, and turns its attention to Heidi.

Suddenly, with no provocation, it charges full-speed at her.

Heidi screams-- this mutant is _charging,_ and in a split-second decision, you leap, pushing her out of the way--

But you don’t just push her out of the way. You practically _fly_ , in a powerful arc, catching her plushy coat with your claws, as you pull her away from the creature’s attack. You land on top of her, quickly collecting yourself and pulling her upright. Before the creature has a chance to correct its trajectory, you grab Heidi’s hand and run as fast as your legs can carry you-- you scan the area, trying to find the best place to get away from this thing-- but the sunglasses are messing with your night vision. You rip them off, trying to stuff them in your coat pocket.

That’s better.

With the sunglasses off, you reanalyze the area. There’s some heightened elevation, a little overhang equipped with those tourist binoculars-- if you can make that jump, it’ll at least buy you some time.

The mutant is back on your path, bolting towards you, and it’s gaining.

Gathering all your strength, you pull Heidi into an awkward piggy-back, gasping, “Hold on!! I’m gonna try jumping up there!”

Heidi wraps her arms around you as tightly as she can, and you crouch, preparing to jump with everything you’ve got. Adrenaline rushing, you push, springing into the air, far-surpassing the overhang. Your jaw drops, realizing just how much _power_ is required to do what you just did-- especially while carrying another _person_ \-- but as quickly as you’d risen, you begin to fall, and Heidi screams ear-splittingly loud right behind your head. Despite her shrieking, you concentrate, trying to right yourself and land properly, on your feet.

The ground rushes at you, and you close your eyes.

You crouch into the landing on your two feet, the impact feeling tremendously weighty, and you huff defiantly against the cold air.

Heidi slumps from your back and shouts, “Are you okay?!” You look at her and nod, breathing heavily. The two of you lean over the railing of the overhang to get a look at the creature.

The mutant dog slams nose-first into the concrete wall below you, whimpering at the impact. It stands up, sniffing the air again, and its gaze falls on you. Now that you have a second to observe it, you realize why it didn’t stop running before hitting the wall.

“It’s blind,” you whisper. “It must be getting around by sense of smell and sound.” Heidi nods, not looking away from the mutant.

The mutant continues to look at you. Hesitantly, it pushes itself off its front legs, relying on its back legs for support. At its full height, it dawns on you that this creature really is a _mutant_ \-- this isn’t just a monster that _looks_ like a dog, it’s definitely something _between_ a chihuahua and a human.

Because when it stands on its hind legs, it almost looks human. The stance and presence is like that of a human, but with the defining features of a dog: large, pointed ears, wet nose, tail, fur, and a dog’s head.

And it’s a boy.

You have to try talking to it-- no, him-- because this mutant could be just like you, scared of being caught. He might be hungry, and confused, and--

Hungry. You swivel to look at Heidi, whose eyes are still trained on the mutant. “Hey, lemme get in your bag real quick.”

She blinks. “What?”

“He’s hungry, it’s probably why he chased us. The poor thing has probably been hiding in this park since the incident at the pet store,” you explain. “Plus, we probably spooked him by getting too close to his hiding place.”

“Okay,” Heidi says. She pulls her bag open and retrieves the sandwiches you two made before leaving the apartment. You unwrap a few and chuck them down to the mutant dog, hoping he’s as okay to eat sandwiches as you are to eat cereal. He smells them before he hears them hit the ground. He quickly scarfs down each sandwich, not bothering to chew. You hold one more in your hand, and before she can stop you, you jump down to the mutant’s level.

He stiffens and growls, but doesn’t move. Your heart is racing, but there’s more to your fear than your immediate safety. Your heart pangs, thinking about this mutant being alone, and hunted down in a city that’s only afraid of him. If the police find him, they’ll kill him; if animal control manages to catch him, they’ll put him down.

“Hey, Buddy,” you try again. “Are you hungry? You can come here, boy.” You pat your leg with one hand, and offer the sandwich with the other hand. This is a bad idea. But, you’re committed now. He approaches cautiously as you quietly encourage him, and eventually, he sniffs the sandwich from inches away. You set it on the ground, where he greedily swallows the whole thing. His tail is wagging a little bit. You reach your gloved hand toward him, still cooing softly at him, and finally, you reach his head. He recoils, his ears lower, and he whimpers, but doesn’t pull away. You gently pet his head. “Good boy,” you coo.

____________________________________________________________________________

_Well, this is certainly a first_ , Leo thinks. His arm is out, the signal that it’s not yet time to go out and capture this mutant. His brothers wait in the trees with baited breath, not daring to make a sound, as to disturb the peaceful resolution before them.

Some cat yokai woman had just calmed a mutant they were planning to capture, and they weren’t sure how to respond. The yokai’s maybe-human friend joined her after a few minutes of descending the path to the overhang, and the mutant dog didn’t become agitated. They could hear the friend chastise the cat yokai for being reckless. But they were both smiling, despite themselves.

Eventually, the dog mutant fell asleep in the yokai’s lap as she pet it. Leo nudged Donnie, who still had his Mutant Tracker in hand, and whispered, “C’mon. It’s now or never. Raph, Mikey, stay hidden-- I don’t want to intimidate them too much.” Mikey looks like he’s about to protest-- after all, how could _he_ be intimidating??-- but thinks better of it.

Donnie nods and follows Leo, who takes the lead.

____________________________________________________________________________

You hear something approaching from the trees, and when you turn to look, you’re not exactly sure if you’re seeing correctly.

Are those… more mutants??

You halt in the middle of your sentence about what your ideas are for how to deal with this mutant dog. Heidi looks at you expectantly. “Someone’s coming,” you say, pulling your hood up.

The two people walking toward you give you a little wave (and in the darkness, a smile, but you’re sure Heidi probably can’t catch that detail). And… yeah, they’re definitely mutants. They’re green and seem to have a leathery, scaly texture-- some kind of reptiles.

It’s only when they’re closer you can _clearly_ see the clothes they’re wearing are, in fact, not _clothing_ , but _shells._

Turtle mutants.

And, they have weapons on their backs.

You do your best not to stare impolitely, since these mutants seem more self-aware than the one in your lap. These are people, like you. You just hope they aren’t trouble.

Act natural.

“Hiya,” you breathe out. You peek at Heidi, who, bless her heart, is not winning in the battle of not-staring-impolitely. She’s _gawking_ at these turtle mutants.

“Hyello,” calls out the turtle on the left-- the one with a blue mask on his head. The other one waves, but doesn’t offer a verbal greeting. “Nice mutant chihuahua you’ve got there.”

“Guess you saw this little guy on the news, too, huh,” you snicker. “Yeah, just calmed him down. Poor thing probably hadn’t eaten a real meal in a week.” The mutant in your lap stirs, but doesn’t wake up. You keep petting him rhythmically, hoping to keep him asleep through this conversation.

“If you want, we can take him off your hands,” the blue-masked turtle offers. “We can give him a nice home.”

You consider this for a moment. Sure, there’s no way you’d be able to keep a dog that can bark loud enough to overturn cars-- in your apartment, but… you can’t just turn him over to these strangers, either.

You need to know more about this situation.

“Who are you guys?” you ask. “I can’t just let you take this dog… mutant guy off to who-knows-where.”

At this, the turtle mutant in the blue mask places a hand on his chest, and smiles: “ _Hamato Leonardo_ , at your service-- and this is my brother, _Hamato Donatello_ \-- also, at your service,” he states with a flourish. “We’re kind-of ‘big-time-heroes’, if you can believe it--”

“Ninjas,” the other turtle deadpans. “Currently, we’re trying to keep mutants from running rampant in New York. It’s kind of our thing.” This turtle, wearing a purple bandanna, gestures at the device on his right arm. “This is my Mutant Tracker, it’s how I was able to track Pipsqueak down.”

“Pipsqueak?” you ask. “Oh! His-- his name is Pipsqueak, got it.” _What a horrible name for a dog._ “Sure doesn’t _bark_ like a Pipsqueak.”

He stirs at the sound of his name being called several times. He opens his eyes, but you know he isn’t seeing. What he probably _is_ , though, is _smelling_ and _hearing_ that more people have arrived. He whips his head at the mutant turtles and starts growling lazily from your arms.

You giggle, “Who do you think _you’re_ growling at, mister? You’re not gonna do anything, you sleepyhead.”

As if resigning himself, Pipsqueak lowers his head back into the crook of your elbow.

The blue one-- his name’s Leonardo, right-- looks at his brother, and says, “We probably won’t be able to just _take_ Pipsqueak off her hands. Look at him, he’s practically attached to her!”

Donatello shakes his head. “I see no reason to drag this yokai into this, if he lashes out or is uncooperative, we can tranq him and get him back home safely.”

“I’m sorry,” Heidi interrupts. “What did you just call Lynx?”

…

What did Heidi just call me?

And… what _did_ they just call me?

Leonardo looks taken aback. “Uhh, don’t tell me you had _no idea_ your friend was a cat yokai-- have you not _seen_ her ears, and, eyes, and the fur, and--”

Donatello smacks Leo on the back of the head before he can finish that sentence. “I think, what she _means_ , Leo, is why did we call her a _yokai_ . Meaning she’s not a _yokai_.”

A light comes on in Leonardo’s eyes in that moment. “Oh ho-ho, so you’re a _mutant_ then, just like me and Donnie!” You nod, feeling a little sheepish being the center of attention. “What a coincidence that your parents gave you that name, seems pretty--”

A robotic arm reaches up from behind Donatello, smacking Leonardo in the head from behind, interrupting him once again. “Obviously,” Donatello sighs, “Her name isn’t actually Lynx. It’s a moniker--”

Leonardo sputters, “I _know_ that! I was trying to crack a joke, but, _obviously_ , you’re here on _business, Donnie-tello_ \--”

“...Lynx?” you ask Heidi, who violently blushes and shrugs.

“In **_any_ ** case,” Donatello huffs, “We need to wrap this up. I can contain Pipsqueak if need be, and we promise to keep him safe. Will this be equitable?” he asks you.

You consider for a moment. “What do you think, Heidi?” you sigh, smiling weakly. “Can we trust these mutant turtle ninjas to take care of a mutant pupper?” Heidi looks them up and down and shrugs.

She giggles sheepishly, “Look, can I be honest? I’m surrounded by four mutants-and-or-yokai, whatever-the-heck-yokai-are, I’m still stuck on that part and Tee-Bee-Eitch, honey, I think I-- I think I just need a _minute_ because _holy shit_ New York is getting better and better by the second---” She paces off and leans against the concrete wall at the base of the overhang.

“If Pipsqueak is willing to go… _willingly_ … then that’s fine. I’m just worried he won’t,” you say.

“Well, how about this,” Leonardo suggests. “I try to pet Pipsqueak. If he doesn’t like that, you can tag along with us back to base. That way, you’ll see the conditions he’ll be living in. Is that.. Will that work?”

You nod.

Leonardo reaches his hand toward Pipsqueak, who detects the movement almost instantly and growls. Despite this, Leonardo continues to inch his hand closer, saying, “It’s alright buddy, who’s a good boy…”

Pipsqueak snaps his head and bites at Leonardo, who quickly pulls his hand away. “Whoah-hoh! Okaaaay, not feeling friendly, I gotcha---” He looks at you, still caught in a half-smile. “Guess you’re taking a trip with us, then, _Lyn_.”

You smile back up at him, and honestly? You’re feeling the way Heidi is right now.

This is overwhelming, but not in a bad way. You’ve just encountered other _mutants_ who seem to have things figured out. You can ask them how they get by, you can have someone to _talk to about literally an-y-thing mutant-related_ , so long as this whole thing is… you know, not some kind of trap.

You don’t think it is, though. Leonardo seems genuine, goofy even, whereas Donatello seems more straight-faced and to-the-point. They make a good duo.

“Hey,” Leonardo smirks and winks. “You went quiet for a minute-- cat got your tongue?”

You could not contain the ugly bolt of laughter that erupts out of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For real, if you're enjoying this fic, (now that we're starting to get into the meat of it), please leave a kudos or a comment! It's good for my ego and productivity!


	4. This Whole Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You take a ride in the Turtle Tank's Taxicab to the lair. Donnie and Leo both have their eyes on you, but for *vastly* different reasons.  
> And a doggo do a bork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got crazy in the last week, and I pushed out some art, so I let this set to the side until I could devote a good chunk of time to it! I hope y'all enjoy!

Tall buildings and bright lights scroll by like a movie reel, and cold air rushes through the car window.  _ I’m taking the taxi _ , you comment to yourself, a dumb smile on your face. Until you reach their homebase, it’s just gonna be you and Pipsqueak up in the taxicab.

You fully expected to hop into an unmarked, white van with them or something, when you had agreed to take Pipsqueak to their hideout-slash-home. You didn’t really expect…  _ this whole situation. _ The mutant turtles you’ve just met own a fully-customized  **_tank_ ** , and strangely, it’s equipped with a taxi on top of it. Donatello explained that the taxi is equipped with jets, in case they needed to be somewhere in a  _ hurry _ .  _ Which is why _ , he explained,  _ you really shouldn’t press any of the buttons in there. _ Thankfully, the dashboard has a cover on it, so you two won’t accidentally press anything.

Speaking of Pipsqueak, he’s over the  _ moon _ right now-- the dude is wagging his tail, his head is sticking out the window, his tongue? On full display. And you fully appreciate his mood, because the air feels equally amazing on  _ your _ fur. It’s  _ heaven _ .

At the very least, this is a nice change in atmosphere from hauling a man-sized dogman up the side of a tank, which, let’s be clear, he was  _ very much against _ at first.

Now, though, it’s just a nice bonding experience. You kinda wish Heidi didn’t have to go, that she could be experiencing this with you, but she’s got work tomorrow.

Unlike you, who still has a pretty steady life of unemployment lined up for the foreseeable future.

You just watch it all go by. The buildings keep slinking by. And eventually, the ocean comes into view, and you’re hit with that ocean air.

You breathe it in and smile.

This is something you didn’t have, back at home. You didn’t live this close to the ocean, and at this time of night, all of New York City’s lights reflect in the bay, and it makes being so far away from home sting just a little bit less. It makes you wonder if you’ll ever, realistically, be able to visit home again. You’re a mutant. It would be harder to go unseen in your hometown. Here, you know you can hide it, if you take enough care.

At home, too many people  _ would  _ care to notice.

Pipsqueak takes a break from the window, curling up next to you. You pet him, growing more affectionate for this smelly, old dog with every passing second.

You remind yourself that he’s more than just a dog, though, and revisit a thought:  _ what if he’s just like me? _

“So, how’re you holding up, Pipsqueak?”

He raises his head to look at you, but doesn’t say anything.

“You were a dog before you were a mutant, right?” He stares, but makes no sound. “But now, you’re definitely part-human. I know this is a stupid question but… can you understand me?”

No response.

“It’s okay if you don’t, you know? You’ve probably spent so much of the past week or so confused. That’s kinda the boat I’m in. I don’t know how it happened to me. A week ago, I went to sleep a human and woke up a mutant. My life is different, it’s not going back to the way it used to be.”

The two of you sit in relative silence for a while after that. The tank below you is noisy, but it isn’t wholly unpleasant. It’s giving you a constant in the crazy world you just,  _ exist in _ , now.

You look at Pipsqueak.

“Hey, Pipsy-- can I call you Pipsy-- I know you can bark, and make your usual dog sounds-- but can you speak? Have you--”

“-- **_BORK!_ ** _ ” _

The windows look like they nearly blow out at the reverberation-- you’re glad he’s closest to the only open window, otherwise it probably would’ve shattered.

“I-- I mean that was, just unnecessary, my guy,” you tease. “Wuh.. wait a minute, hold on. Pipsy?”

He turns to look at you again.

“Lay down.”

He obeys.

You smile. “Good boy!” You reward him with some pats on the back.

Okay. So he’s trained. Which means, you need to be  _ expressly careful _ about saying the word  _ ‘speak’ _ from now on, since that’s just gonna trigger another bark as loud as an explosion.

You might’ve been tired this time of night as a human, but as a  _ lynx _ , you’re sure you lean on the more nocturnal side of things, now. It feels natural. And, looking at the city and its lights, reflected in the water, out the window of a taxi atop a turtle tank, in the body of a mutant, a wave of emotion passes over you.

You feel tears spill over your cheeks, wetting your fur. Emotions feel muddled, and yet, in this moment… very  _ poignant _ . Your emotions are making themselves known, even if you’re not quite sure what they are yet. You’re happy you met other mutants. Maybe you’ve been bottling up some emotions since the whole life-turning-upside-down thing happened.

_ Melancholy _ … you think.  _ That’s gotta be one of the emotions, right? _

* * *

“So, what’re they liiiike?” an excited Mikey asks.

Leo, who is currently driving in lieu of Donnie, responds, “ _ Well _ , Lynx is nice enough, which is a nice change of pace, considering the last few mutants we met tried to kill us-- and Pipsqueak is a little…  _ ruff _ \-- around the edges---”

“ **_LEO!!!_ ** _ ”  _ Mikey and Raph cry out in unison. They’ve almost certainly heard this one before.

“What? I can’t crack a joke?” Leo teased, snarky grin evident. “You guys are barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

Mikey sighed pointedly. “ _ Leo, _ I asked what they were like, not for discount puns from  _ ‘101 Jokes to Peeve-Off Your Brothers’-- _ ”

“There’s nothing wrong with celebrating a successful mission with a couple of harmless jokes, but if you want, I’ll put them on  _ paaaaws _ .”

Donnie turns to look at his brothers when they start shouting at each other, unaware of the hijinks they’d been getting up to. When he confirms Leo is driving responsibly amidst their loud banter, he returns to trying to fix his Spy-der tech. Something about Lynx didn’t sit right with Donnie, and he intended to keep an eye-- or in this case,  _ eight eyes _ \-- on her. He’d snuck his Spy-der into the taxi in order to keep tabs on her and Pipsqueak, but it took a  _ huge _ hit when the mutant dog barked sonically-loud above them.

Of course, this means he had been privy on a few of the things Lynx was saying to Pipsqueak.  _ Turned into a mutant in her sleep _ … he thought.  _ There’s something cruel about that, if it’s true. Still… _

The Spy-der sparked loudly in his hands, causing Donnie to curse under his breath. Raph turns around in his seat. “You alright, Donnie? How’s the fix going on your Mutant Tracker?”

_ Ah, yes, my white lie _ , Donnie remembers. “Making progress, just needs to be recalibrated,” he replies noncommittally.

Donnie returns to the intricate work in secret. He knew he’d upset Leo if he revealed he’d been spying on their extra passengers, but Donnie knew he couldn’t trust Leo to act logically. Leo’s vibes were hitting differently, since he’d met Lynx. Donnie suspected he knew why. Leo was… infuriatingly,  _ more  _ Leo, when he greeted her. If Leo was  _ confident  _ before, he was  _ cocksure _ upon introducing himself.

When Lynx had seen the tank, Leo was  _ elated _ , bragging about their-- no,  _ his _ \-- fortified, beautiful creation.  **_His_ ** _ Turtle Tank _ , which  _ Donnie had built from a movie-set moon buggy. _ Leo was trying to impress her. Leo was far-too distracted to see the strange coincidences concerning Lynx.

_ For starters _ , Donnie recollected,  _ she  _ **_randomly_ ** _ ended up in the same park as a recently-transformed mutant, on the same night we sought it out. And secondly, we agreed as a  _ **_family_ ** _ that only our most-trusted inner-circle should know the whereabouts of our hideout. We don’t know Lynx. What if she’s some kind of spy? _

He blinked, and double-checked his wrist-tech, making sure he’d blocked and tagged her phone’s location feature.  _ Can never be too pragmatic _ , he thought dryly.

* * *

At some point, you fell asleep on the ride to their base, and only awakened when the car squeaked to a full stop. The air was no longer fresh and cool outside your window. Instead, it was replaced with a dank heaviness, stagnant air trapped within concrete walls. Which  _ might  _ be an indicator that you’re inside some big, concrete building or something.

You wriggle out from under Pipsqueak’s head, which had been laying in your lap. Something that’s become routine upon waking up is, what Heidi accurately dubbed, as ‘cat-stretching’. While still sitting, you reach your arms in front of you and arch your back, trying to familiarize your body to being awake. Just as you finish, you hear a tapping outside one of the closed windows. The window is tinted heavily but you  _ think _ you see a turtle with an orange mask through it, finger-waving and smiling like a fool.

You pull up the lock on the taxi and swing the door open and yawn, “Hey.”

The expression on this turtle’s face freezes, becoming more of a grimace as he looks past you.

You turn to see Pipsqueak sniffing the air, ears pulled back. “It’s okay Pipsy, you don’t have to worry,” you say, trying your best to reassure him. He seeks your hand for comfort.

“Awwww,” the eager turtle cooed, “Pipsy’s a cute nickname! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boyyy?”

Before you could stop him, he reached his hand toward Pipsqueak, but to your surprise, Pipsqueak let him touch him. Pipsqueak recoiled somewhat, but took well to this turtle’s affection and pats in no time at all. Of course, this also meant that this turtle is reaching awkwardly across you to pet Pipsy, and you do your best to guide Pipsy to stand up and move past you.

“Oh! By the way, I’m Mikey,” the mutant turtle says, completely oblivious to the mutant dog jumping up on his chest and licking his face. “Welcome to home-sweet-home.”

* * *

“Hey, Nardo,” Donnie called.

“What’s up, Don?” Leo asked. Leo knows Donnie only calls him ‘Nardo’ when he’s gotten on Donnie’s nerves.

Raph and Mikey had just hopped out of the Turtle Tank, leaving only Donnie and Leo in the cockpit area. Donnie avoids making eye contact, but authoritatively says, “Please keep in mind that this was a  _ mission _ , and  _ should not be _ considered a casual...  _ hang-out-sesh _ until we’ve achieved our objectives.”

Leo scoffs. “Listen, I know it’s a little awkward to break our protocol for a person we could have  _ technically  _ not brought with us, but I… I dunno, I didn’t wanna upset her. Especially since she made apprehending Pipsqueak a--  _ literal _ \-- ‘walk-in-the-park’. This is gonna be a simple-- ‘let her see we’re not a bunch of evil mutants, we’ll take care of this dog mutant, and we go our separate ways,’ sort of deal. Bing-bang-boom, simple, clean, no fuss, no muss.”

Leo hopes he didn’t convey his disappointment at all. If nothing else, Leo’s definitely  _ curious _ about Lynx-- it takes some serious daring to put yourself in front of an angry animal and try to calm it down, but she did it. That kind of empathy, or recklessness, or whatever you wanna call it, was admirable, in Leo’s eyes. It reminded him of Mikey, whose dedication to resolving conflict and turning enemies into friends and frenemies knew no bounds. It was familiar.

And, sure, Leo was still riding on the high from when Lynx laughed at his lame ‘cat got your tongue’ joke. It’d been  _ awhile _ since anyone had laughed that hard at a wise-crack of his, and boy did it feel  _ amazing _ .

But, he knew Donnie was right-- he’s gotta focus right now. Be a good leader, complete the mission, and tell the guys they did a good job tonight.

Leo is ripped out of his thoughts when a loud bark sounds outside the Turtle Tank, rattling the heavy structure somewhat. Donnie and Leo look out the front window of the tank to find Pipsqueak chasing Raph in the garage, barking and chasing admirably, despite his blindness.

“Eeuugh,” Leo sounds, cringing a little. “We should  _ proooobably  _ take care of that, huh?” And before Donnie could respond, Leo hops out of the tank. Donnie sighs, following behind. He knew Leo wasn’t listening when he’d gone on to rant about staying professional and  _ not _ flirting with a person they just met that  _ so happens  _ to  _ pertain _ to the mission-- but Donnie would’ve appreciated if Leo had at least responded in the affirmative that, on his honor, he wouldn’t  _ fraternize  _ with this person.

“So unprofessional,” Donnie remarks, eyebrow raised. “Classic Leonardo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
